


The Lost Boys oneshots

by Ravensoul93



Category: The Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Comfort, Drama, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Lost and Found, Love, Movie: Lost Boys (1987), Origins, Party, Tragedy, Vampires, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28906914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravensoul93/pseuds/Ravensoul93
Summary: Just some random stuff popping in my head every now and then. Some of those pieces will be featuring Jenn (OC of a very good friend of mine). Rated M just to be sure for future chapters.
Kudos: 2





	1. Meating Jenn's friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the original characters, places or plot, everything else is mine. So Jenn is the OC of one of my best friends. I have her permission to use her for this project.  
> -> https://markolvr.wordpress.com/

I was a little excited to go down to the boardwalk today. Jenn had called earlier, asking if I felt like going out and maybe meet her new friends later. She had been hanging out with them for some time now, especially the one named Paul. I had been out of town for a couple of weeks, helping my grandparents with the garden and stuff, so I hadn't met them yet.  
"Are you dreaming again, silly?" I looked up and smiled at my friend. With an excited grin I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.  
"Gosh, I missed you Jenn! I know we talked every day over the phone, but it wasn't the same." I hugged her again, almost refusing to let her go, as if I was afraid she would just vanish into thin air. She was my best friend, like a sister I didn't know I had until a few years back.  
"Let's get something to eat. The boys won't be here for another hour. And you need to tell me everything about your gran's cute new neighbour. You didn't think I would forget about that!" I laughed and looped my arm through Jenn's. I hadn't been dating for some time and of course she would be questioning about the guy next door.

About an hour later, after some serious interrogation by my best friend, we were strolling along the boardwalk. They had just turned on the lights. How I loved it at night, even when some of the rides were pretty old by now.  
"Hey watch where you're going stupid bitch!" I had been zoning out a little again with my ice in hand. Some angry looking girl was standing right in front of us, behind her four other girls. All wearing the same bitchy and arrogant expression on their faces as the girl mouthing off at us. Of course I had walked right into her. Jenn took a hold of my arm and pulled me back a step.  
"Look. I am sorry. I wasn't…"  
"Why are you talking to me? You ruined my shirt!" I looked at her dumbfounded. I hated girls like that, I had hated them back in school and still did so.  
"Why don't you watch your tone? She said she was sorry, so leave it." Jenn, being her usual self, had taken a half step in front of me and tried to solve the problem. She knew I would have said something completely different.  
"And who do you think you are? Oh right, if she is a stupid bitch, you are her little designated watchdog. Woof!" I felt my blood boil when the brunette girl pushed against my friend's shoulder. She looked back to her friends who had started laughing. Total waste of brain cells…  
"What did you just say, you fat ugly cow?" Crap… So much for me thinking out loud. In slow motion I saw Jenn turn with wide eyes. The same second I lunged forward, fist raised, ready to pounce on barbie face. There were just things that got me losing control in no time. And she did both. Going against my best friend and being a bitch about my chubby form.  
Before my fist could connect with her face, someone grabbed my wrist and stopped me.  
"You're okay, Jenn?" To my left a guy was standing next to her, holding her face in both hands and looking her over. That had to be Paul, he really looked like an 80's rockstar.  
"She tried to hit me! That lunatic tried to bash in my face!" I saw red again and ripped my arm free, making another step forward before I was caught around my waist.  
"Get lost."  
"Easy now, kitten." The dark voice in my ear sent shivers down my spine and I stopped struggling for a second. I heard someone asking who I was and distantly got that Jenn introduced me as her friend she had been talking about. I was still focused on the girl who gave us some attitude.

"Let go of me! She deserves it! Let me..." I let out a little shriek when my feet suddenly left the ground and I was thrown over someone's shoulder. All I could see was a leather clad back and long dark hair. Whoever he was turned around and Jenn followed behind us with Paul's arm thrown around her shoulder. She winked at me and I knew that look on her face.  
"Hey, she is cuter than you told us, Jenn." Another guy appeared in my line of sight. He had curly hair, short in the front and long in the back, wearing a mischievous smile on his face.  
"Please… Let me down. I won't hurt that bitch, promised." I yelped when there was a quick smack to my right butt cheek.  
"Language…" The two blondes and Jenn laughed at the face I was making.  
"Sorry. Dwayne doesn't like it when I do that either. But I think you can really let her down now." We stopped and I was put back on my feet. Looking back up I was met with the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen.


	2. Breaking point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something I wrote a while back when my friend was feeling real down since she was getting harrassed over the Lost Boys fandom.

I sat outside the cave, hugging my knees close to my chest, not even realizing tears were streaming down my face while I stared out on the dark water. I was so caught up in my own head I didn't feel the cold seeping into my clothes and my skin. I didn't even flinch when someone plopped down behind me, his legs on either side of my own. It didn't really surprise me that Paul had followed me outside.

"We talked about that, Jenn…" Though his voice was low I could hear him clear as day over the soft breeze wafting over the beach.

"I don't know what you are talking about." I knew I was being stubborn, and I regretted snapping at him the same second the words left me.

"Yeah, you do." He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my right shoulder. "I don't understand why you keep doing it. Why you let them drag you down. They want you to take the fall for something they are just as guilty in and you just let them do it to you. They move on and you are left to pick up the pieces all over again."

"Maybe it was my fault…" A low growl had me stopping mid sentence.

His arms tightened slightly, and his voice was just a shade deeper. "Don't you dare say that. It was not your fault! You know how much I care about you and you had every right to speak up. Nothing they said could ever keep me from you. And you know that. We have gone through so much over the last years, if I wanted to get rid of you, I would have had more than one chance. I am still here, and I will always be. As long as you will have me." He nuzzled his face against my neck and I slowly started to relax back against his chest. Deep down I knew he was right. There was no one who knew me better than him. He knew me at my worst, he knew the dark pitch-black abyss tainting my very soul. And still, he came through for me. Always.

"I love you." I whispered to him and I could almost hear his smile.

"I know. The truth is, when I am with you, I feel more alive than back when I was still breathing. You are everything to me and I will not let anybody take you from me. Not even death can have you…"


	3. Origins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly there aren't many stories on the boys that give any detail of where our favourite vampires come from or how they joined the pack. This is my attempt at giving them some background which makes sense at least to me. I wrote this down in another fanfiction of mine (currently on hiatus), so it is already a little older but I am still convinced it makes pretty much sense regaring the way the boys act. I'd love to know your opinion on their origins :)

David:

Niagara Falls, Ontario – July 1814

So this was it. The moment he would give his life for his country. David had joined the army only a year prior to the beginning of the battle of 1812. It hadn't been that long that they had fought for independence from Britain but still they were fighting against the British lot.  
He started coughing and looked up at the night sky. The stars seemed clouded and distant, so far away now that he was lying here between bodies known and unknown.  
First he had hoped they would find him but that hope left him, he was drifting in and out of consciousness. He could feel his lungs fill with blood, the slow and agonizing feeling of drowning in his own body.  
A dark silhouette leaned over him completely blocking the moon's light. Coughing he tried to raise his hand to the tall figure towering above him but there was no more strength left.  
"Well boy. I must say, to see your shattered form is a disappointment. I could hear your heartbeat all across the battlefield and expected something more than a boy left to die. Still… I can feel your heart battling against the inevitable even now that your lungs are filling with your very essence. Tell me, would you want to live on? Do you want me to save you?"  
David looked up at the man whose face had changed into something monstrous. But he wasn't afraid of him, he was afraid of vanishing into oblivion as if he had never existed. Trying to speak, the only noise coming from his throat was some gurgle and the first blood began to flood his mouth.  
"Show me some of that fight, boy! And I shall make you like me." The man's voice was loud and seemed to resonate in his head. With everything he had left, he struggled to move until he finally managed to lift his arm a few inches. This seemed to be all that was needed to seal his fate. The man lunged forward, fangs bared and went straight for his throat, draining all the blood blocking his windpipe.  
"Drink, child. And live." Without thinking he swallowed down what tasted like blood, he would do anything not to die.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Dwayne:

Colorado Territory – 1864

They had come without warning. White men in their uniforms, hundreds of them. He had needed a few minutes to understand what was happening when the screams started. Soon gunshots and screams had disrupted the afternoon. Naturally his first instinct had been to find his family as he rushed back to camp, abandoning the hunt.  
He dodged people and horses alike, killed a few uniformed men that tried to stop him. He found his tent empty, no sign of his family. Coming back out something heavy landed against the back of his head and the world went black.

When he came to, he couldn't move. He had been bound and was lying on his stomach next to some other members of his tribe. Mostly women and children and some of the elders.  
He was pulled up to a kneeling position by his long hair, no chance but to follow the upward motion. He and the few remaining men were pulled aside. When he could make out his wife and daughter he managed to somehow break free, running over and falling to his knees. They were alive. That was all that mattered. However it was a short moment of relief. He was grabbed again, still struggling until a gunshot had him stop.  
The man holding the gun stepped in front of him. He didn't understand a word he was saying, while gesturing towards his family. When someone yanked back his wife's head he lashed out again. Watching in horror as some wannabe hero slit her throat in cold blood. He trashed against his bindings, trying to get to his dying love. They yanked him back, managed to back him up against a tree and secure him there.  
A second later they shot his crying daughter, her dead eyes fixed on him.  
He didn't remember much afterwards. They slaughtered everybody still alive, didn't even bother to deliver them to the ground but left them right there for the wild dogs.  
He was the last of his tribe, bound to a tree, unable to move. The soldier with the gun stood in front of him again. A knife in his hand and an evil grin on his face. With a loud laugh he shoved the knife between Dwayne's ribs, spreading a hot searing pain through his torso while his lungs filled with blood. The last thing he remembered was the man being yanked away from him and golden eyes that promised him eternity to seek revenge.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Paul:

New York City – 1940

He was desperately searching his few belongings. There had to be some left, he didn't take all of it last night. Had somebody stolen it? And his weed was gone too. Fuck! He quickly searched his pockets finding some dollar bills and quickly calculating. It should be about enough to get high tonight. To blend out the nagging thoughts about his disapproving family and how all had gone to shit after trusting the wrong people.  
He went to the pier, down near the old fish market, where he knew his guy would be waiting for the usual customers. It was quick business as usual. He would walk by, place the money in the guy's hand and get a small sachet with some heroin.

Back in his hideout he quickly heated up the substance. His hands were already shaking when the needle pierced his skin.  
He was flooded with relief as the drug kicked in and made the world more blurry and bearable once more. It took him a couple of minutes to realize something was wrong. The burning in his arm didn't stop. It spread out and he soon felt like his veins were on fire.  
"What the hell did this scumbag sell me?!" He screamed, both furious and in pain. He felt his legs give in beneath him and managed to fall to the ground without bashing in his head on the low stonewall.  
His sight blurred more than it should. It became difficult to breath. Shit, he had done it. He either overdosed or there had been something else in it. His body started to feel heavy, his thoughts coming slower by the minute. Just when he felt ready to pass out there was a large shadow looming over him while a second even larger form grabbed him and pulled him up.  
"Today's your lucky day, kid." Something was pushed against his lips and his jaws pried open. Some heavy and coppery liquid filled his mouth and flowed down his throat without resistance as his body was slowly giving in.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Marko:

Atlanta - 1976

This was it. He had about enough of this life and all the pain. Abandoned, thrown away, beaten and abused… A violent cough had his body shaking again, not only from the cold but the pain as well. He pulled the filthy blanket tighter around his skinny form. He had always been slim but never that scrawny. He let his head fall back and thought about how he ended up here. Broken and forgotten under some bridge in Atlanta, miles from home.

 _His childhood had been normal, school and all considered. It was only when he turned twelve that his father had started drinking. Why he didn't exactly know up until today. First it was frustrated fits when he would yell at Marko upon returning home. Later on it was simple things that tipped him off before he started beating him up whenever he could get his hands on his son. His mother had turned a blind eye to what was happening right under her nose, pretending it wasn't happening despite the obvious evidence.  
For a short time the beatings stopped when his mother got pregnant again. His father seemed to get a hold on himself. Only it didn't stay that way. Shortly after his baby sister was born his father started drinking again and of course Marko was the one to suffer from it. He tried avoiding his father when he came home drunk, which only led to severe beatings once he found out his son was hiding from him. Later on he would start beating him up for no reason at all, even when he wasn't drunk. He never laid a finger on his wife or daughter and Marko slowly drifted into a state of mind where he considered leaving for good.  
He loved his sister dearly, he would have done anything for her. Making her smile at all costs was the only thing keeping him sane as his mother's affections started fading. Her sole focus becoming his sister up to the point where she sometimes even forgot to put out a plate for him at the dinner table.  
He remembered the beating he had gotten that last evening when he came home from school an hour early. He was sure his father cracked some ribs when the baby started crying. Out of fear he might turn on the child, Marko did the only logical thing. He turned on his father, or at least he tried fighting back. The result was that his father threw him out into the streets, his only possession what he had on him at that moment. First he thought he could just sneak back in once his father calmed down but got kicked out again immediately. First he stayed close, watching his family from afar until the pain became too much. It was as if he had never existed in the first place, nobody came looking for him or even cared if he was still around. He had lived off of scraps and bits he had pulled from the trash until this was no option anymore. He needed to get out.  
He somehow survived in the streets, wandering farther and farther from what used to be home. The once lively boy slowly fading away. He turned to drugs in order to forget at least the always present hunger and feeling of abandonment. Since he had no job and never more than a few bugs in his pockets he was getting more bony by the day. He had been beaten up more times than he could count while defending the few belongings he had acquired over time. A blanket, some spare clothes, nothing more. Worse than the beatings was the abuse, if you could call it that. At least it felt like it when he was forced to offer up his body in exchange for a little food, drugs or at least a night in peace_…

Hot tears spilled over his cheeks. He was alone. Nobody cared about him, nobody would miss him when he was gone. And he wasn't so naive as to think that he had more than a few days left when the coughing got to the point where it wouldn't stop anymore. Another fit rattled his body and he tasted blood. He looked up at the night sky, at the moon and smiled softly. At least he had company left, he thought when he heard the soft chirp of one of the pigeons he had rescued.  
"Sorry. I hope someone will feed you tomorrow…", he whispered when he grabbed the glass shard next to him. He wouldn't wither away, not as long as he could decide the way he went out. With determination he ripped the shard through his skin. Five times each arm. He honestly was surprised how much blood was left in his body when he watched the life pour from him with growing dizziness.  
"Oh what a shame. Such a beautiful face…" He tried to focus on the shadow that had emerged from the black of the night, his vision blurring even more.  
"Your brothers are dying to meet you." White hot pain shot through his body before he felt a warmth he hadn't felt in ages and passed out.


	4. Change of gravity (Dwayne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an idea that popped into my head a few days back. Maybe this will have more than one part, I don't know yet.

“Can I come with you?” Dwayne looked down at the little boy with pure adoration.  
“Not this time, buddy. Promise to take you tomorrow, okay?” The boy looked up at his favourite brother with a little disappointment but nodded eagerly. He let go of the dark haired vampire’s hand and trotted back down the staircase to continue painting the walls of the cave with chalk.  
“Hey, where are you going?” Paul was returning to the cave when he stepped outside and looked at his younger brother.  
“Boardwalk.” His reply was as short as ever, something his brothers got used to a long time ago. It wasn’t so much that he hated talking, it was more that he didn’t see the point in wasting too many words if things could be put short.  
“Why? We went hunting yesterday.” Paul looked a little confused and scratched his head.  
“Are you my mother? I’ll be back before dawn, honey.”, Dwayne replied sarcastically before leaving.  
“Yeah, whatever big guy. Bring roses when you come back.”  
To be honest, he didn’t know why he wanted to hit the boardwalk again. True, it wasn’t for food. Something just told him that he had to be there tonight. He flung himself on his beloved bike and the engine roared to life. There was no feeling like the wind in his hair and the freedom he felt while speeding through the dark.  
Down at the boardwalk it was the same as always. Loud, crowded, people of all colours and sizes. He parked in the spot the boys usually left their bikes in, most people knew better than to mess with their stuff anyways. Well maybe except for the occasional Surf Nazi who didn’t get the message yet. Dwayne leaned against the railing, arms crossed over his chest and watched the people in front of him passing by. Some cast him a short glance and then quickly looked away or tried to get his attention. It didn’t matter much to him. He didn’t care. People were food or a quick fuck if the need was there. Nothing more.  
Aimlessly his eyes wandered the crowd, still not sure what he was even looking for. Until he saw it. Or rather _her_. Long dark blonde hair, on the brink of being brown, curling over her back down to her waist. She was short, maybe around 5’3 or 5’4 at most. His eyes roamed over her backside. She was a little more chubby than most of the girls around here but he liked it. Bones were for dogs. She was wearing a black skirt that flowed around her knees in the soft breeze coming from the sea and a dark red top. He didn’t know what it was but somehow he felt drawn to her. Hell he hadn’t even seen her face and still he knew she was the reason why he was here tonight.

Dwayne flinched when he heard her soft laugh. She stood at one of the food stands and was laughing at something the guy behind the counter said to her. An involuntary growl emerged from deep within his chest. He hated that the guy was making her laugh. He watched her pay and then step off to the side to wait for her order.  
The vampire pushed off the railing and casually walked towards the food stand and stopped a few feet behind her. Although there were still a few people between them he could smell her, lemon and cardamom. The urge to be close to her increased with every second. An idea popped into his mind and he pushed towards the counter, ordered something and paid, not that he would have cared much what he ordered, Laddie would be happy with whatever he brought back. He stepped off to the side to wait and “accidentally” walked into the girl.

“Sorry, my bad.” He bent down to pick up her phone and was met with crystal blue eyes when he came back up. Her eyes widened and her cheeks blushed when she reached out to take her phone back. Before she could say anything her order was ready and she took it.  
Dwayne was at a loss for a second. He knew she was about to turn and leave. The thing was that he didn’t want her to. He hadn’t felt like this for ages. Insecure and at a loss of what he should do. As if he was a teenage boy again. While he was still musing over what to do his order was ready as well. He took it and looked around, his eyes searching the few tables until he spotted the girl sitting at the only unoccupied table in the far corner.  
“Mind if I sit down? It’s a little less crowded here?” She looked up with surprise in those big blue eyes and a small smile spread along her lips.  
“Not at all.” Her voice was low and soft, flooding him with warmth like only fresh blood usually did. Again he didn’t understand what it was that drew him to her like a moth to the flame. He just knew one thing. He wanted her. Bad.  
“So… What’s your name, stranger?” He looked at her for a second and she raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Dwayne. And what do I call you, princess?”


End file.
